


Torbjörn's Turret

by Turrets and Sorrows (SampleText)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dubious Consent, I regret everything, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, One Shot, no regrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:16:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8459839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SampleText/pseuds/Turrets%20and%20Sorrows
Summary: Torbjörn finds a mysterious substance on his turrets. Maybe someone knows about that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I regret everything. I just wanted to dump this out because of Orenjimaru. Unbeta'ed. Wrote in 1 hour.

Shock spread through Torbjörn’s face when he went down to work on his turrets. There was something unusual, something amiss, something mischievous. The turret was warm, hot even, but it wasn't on. No one was nearby, unless you considered the other turrets. They wouldn't do that. Torbjörn trusted them, and the thought of any trouble coming from them was utter blasphemy. Still, it was alarming to come back after an Overwatch mission to find his turret warm. 

 

Torbjörn almost decided it was just a problem with the design, but the neck of the turret glistening caught his eyes. Foul play was involved, and Torbjörn knew it. The short man felt the glistening barrel of the turret. It was wet, but it was too thick to be water. He licked the substance, but it soon became apparent that it was a bad idea. Flavorless at first, but as Torbjörn's tongue tasted it more, he spat it out. There was an indescribable taste lingering on his tongue, but Torbjörn knew he didn't like it. Torbjörn searched the workshop for a rag, but there wasn't any. There should always be a rag, but how come there weren’t any? That wasn't important right now however, he needed to get a towel before the metal started to rust. He left the room in search of a piece of cloth to clean the turret. 

 

\---

 

“Hello, my friend!” Reinhardt bumped into Torbjörn in the hallways. Gone was his massive armor replaced with a white t-shirt and shorts. 

 

Torbjörn was about to ignore him and go find a towel, but there it was, in Reinhardt’s basket, Torbjörn's gray rag marked with ‘Torbjörn’ sewn onto it. “You have my rag! Give it ‘ere!” Torbjörn was jumping to reach the rag but Reinhardt’s height made it difficult to reach. 

 

“I'm sorry my friend! Today was the day I did the laundry, and I visited your workshop to get your dirty items. You weren't there so I  grabbed them myself.” Reinhardt handed the gray rag to Torbjörn. The smaller man snatched it and ran back to the workshop. 

 

\---

 

Torbjörn bursted into the room and ran to clean his turret. However, something caught his eye. Right next to the sullied turret was a clear bottle of lube. Torbjörn didn't want to even think about why it was there. He placed the bottle in his pocket and wiped off the substance. The turret was clean and ready to be worked on. 

 

“Torbjörn? Are you in there?” A booming voice echoed across the dimly lit room. Standing at the entrance was Reinhardt holding a cup of tea. 

 

“I can ‘ear ya just fine,” Torbjörn called back. “What do you need?” 

 

“You always work so hard, I wanted to give you a drink,” Reinhardt handed him the cup. 

 

“Ya should’ve given me vodka,” Torbjörn remarked and took the cup. 

 

Reinhardt laughed as he grabbed the cup back from Torbjörn, “I’ll grab vodka with the cookies I’m baking.” 

 

“You’re baking cookies? You don’t need to.”

 

“No, no it’s fine. I’m sure you’ll be hungry later,” Reinhardt exited the room leaving Torbjörn alone to work on his turret.    
  
Now back alone, Torbjörn continued to work on the turret. He reached into his pockets to grab some bolts and felt the bottle of lube. Suspicion sprouted in Torbjörn’s thoughts, and ideas started to wander. The substance on the turret from before was the lubrication. Did someone put the turret, up the ass? The thought seemed nuts, but Torbjörn couldn’t drop the thought. Could someone fit it down there? It was so big, the barrel of the turret, there’s no way someone could fit- but it was warm. Torbjörn hardly noticed his erection, but it shifted uncomfortably in his pants. He had to try it. 

 

It was now or never. Using some of the lubrication, he coated his fingers and stuck one inside. He felt so full, the idea of having _that_  inside him seemed more and more impossible, but he would push through. After a minute of adjusting, he stuck another digit in. Torbjörn bit his tongue and swallowed a moan. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this. The ring finger slid in and Torbjörn couldn’t move. It was too much, Torbjörn pulled out all the fingers. Sweating and panting, Torbjörn laid on the floor. There’s no way someone could fit around the turret, Torbjörn concluded. He laughed and pulled his pants back up.    
  
“Time to clean up the mess I’ve made,” Torbjörn reached for his towel. Or he wanted to at least, but he was pulling his pants back down. “I can’t give up now.” Torbjörn opened the lubrication and poured the entire 4 ounce bottle onto the turret. The turret glistened with the dim fluorescent lights shining on the lubrication. He pushed the barrel of the turret in. It wouldn’t go in, at first, but Torbjörn’s insistent pressing finally pushed the front of the turret through as he inhaled sharply. It filled up Torbjörn so much, but the feeling of satisfaction didn’t pierce him like it usually did. An idea flew by his consciousness and he grabbed onto it before it left him. He slammed the turret and it shook to life. The barrel of the turret started to move forwards and backwards, with Torbjörn hanging off it. 

 

Torbjörn’s brain started to become numb as the nerves at his prostate sent electricity all over Torbjörn. It wasn’t enough. Torbjörn must’ve been hanging off the turret for a good 5 minutes and he still hasn’t released. Torbjörn couldn’t process anything. 

 

“Need something bigger, my friend?” A large body was hugging Torbjörn. All he could do was nod yes. The man pulled him off the turret and Torbjörn could only groan. “I have something bigger.”  Torbjörn was filled more than he ever was before. Even the turret couldn’t fill Torbjörn as much as he was right now. It was unbearable, combined with the minutes of stimulation from before, Torbjörn couldn’t hold on any longer. Torbjörn released and cum streaked down in long ribbons in front on the floor. A wave of white light covered Torbjörn’s eyes and he blanked out.

 

\--

 

Torbjörn woke up to Reinhardt shaking him awake. “Are you okay?”    
  
“What happened?” Torbjörn needed answers.

 

“I came to give you the cookies but you were lying on the floor,” Reinhardt looked worried, and he grabbed the platter of cookies for Torbjörn. 

 

“Thanks, I actually am hungry,” Torbjörn ate the chocolate chip cookie. Not the cookie he would’ve preferred but anything beats being hungry.

 

Reinhardt laughed loudly, “I thought you would be.”

 


End file.
